Against All Odds
by Patricia Emy
Summary: Dana Scully recalls the events of "Audrey Pauley".


Author: Patricia Emy  
Feedback: patricia_emy@yahoo.com  
Category: Vignette/Angst, Scully POV  
Rating: G  
Spoilers: Audrey Pauley, Provenance/Providence, DeadAlive, Per Manum,   
One Breath  
Disclaimer: Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, John Doggett, Monica Reyes and Walter   
Skinner belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and 20th Century Fox. No   
infringement of any copyright law is intended here.  
  
Summary: Dana Scully recalls the events of "Audrey Pauley".  
  
Author's Note: This story is my version of the facts. Some of the dialogues  
from "Audrey Pauley" were reproduced here without permisson. The ideas may be   
the same but the approach is certainly not.   
  
Just to remember: English is not my first language so there may be some   
mistakes. Please let me know if you find any.  
  
  
  
  
Against All Odds  
  
  
  
  
I hazily recalled the ringing of the phone. Somewhere on the way, after leaving   
William at my mom's, I remembered to give Skinner a call.  
  
  
  
"Hell of a thing to wake up to, huh?", John tried to say the phrase with some   
humor, but the expression on his face did not match his words. I placed my arm   
around his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. On the way to the emergency a   
police officer reported what happened in details. An intersection, a car in high   
speed, a drunk driver.  
  
"We stopped after work. She had a beer", he mumbled, head down, while stared at   
this own hands.  
  
"Well, the man who hit her had fifteen. Don't do this to yourself, John."  
  
  
  
Later, the exams revealed what I feared the most. Monica slipped into a coma and   
was not responsive. While I gave a closer look at all the exams, John tried to   
argue and, in part, I agreed with him. It didn't make any sense. There was   
nothing there that pointed to a damage so severe that could cause brain death.   
But, from a doctor's point of view, I knew I couldn't do anything but mourn the   
loss of someone I had come to consider as a friend.   
  
  
  
Skinner arrived about half an hour after my phone call. There was nothing left   
to do except trying to contact her next of kin, an ungrateful task he offered   
himself to take. He called me back a few moments later, telling her parents were   
on their way. John, however, refused to leave the ICU.  
  
Standing at the doorway, I watched him at Monica's bedside. His hand was   
entwined with hers and he seemed unaware of my presence. How many times I had   
been at the same place, with Mulder or myself at the side of a hospital bed?   
It's a sure thing Mulder would not be just seated there. Probably he'd be   
arguing with someone or going after something that could change that situation.   
He just couldn't stay there, watching. But John Doggett is not like Mulder but I   
can't help but admire him as I watch his dedication to his partner. And Monica   
herself had shown she felt the same way. I could notice the relief showing   
through her face as John came out of the coma after almost losing his life by   
the hands of those who had taken my son away. Somehow I saw something of Mulder   
and I in those two. But, unlike Monica, John had never admitted his feelings so   
openly.  
  
"John?"  
  
He turned back to the door at the sound of my voice. "Have you got something?",   
he asked.   
  
I looked down at the envelope in my hands. I had analyzed the results more than   
once, hoping to find something different. I hated to say that but I couldn't lie   
to him.  
  
"John...", I approached him slowly, touching his shoulder while I sat down by   
his side, "You have to let her go."  
  
"Of all people, Agent Scully...", he shook his head, his voice breaking, "Why   
can't you understand? Not so long ago, in a hospital like this, I saw a man on a   
bed just like this one, hooked to the same machines. A man who, for all   
purposes, was dead. Tell me, Dana, if you did not give up on him, why should I   
give up now?"  
  
I faced him, without knowing what to say. Why should I be surprised after all I   
had witnessed?  
  
John rose from his seat and left the room, taking the exams with him and I   
turned my eyes back to Monica. The silence was occasionally broken by the sound   
of the life-support machines and the respirator. On the monitor, a straight line   
indicated the absence of brain activity. A part of me wanted to believe she was   
alive. But at the same time I was afraid to give myself some hope just to see it   
fade away. Although I tried, I could only see a man drowning in his own despair,   
clinging himself to the belief that there was something to be done when   
everything else told him otherwise.  
  
Maybe because I could see myself in that same position.  
  
Never give up on a miracle.  
  
It was rather strange that those words came up to my mind, but it was a miracle   
we all needed at that moment.   
  
Why was it so hard to believe?   
  
John was out there, trying to collect any piece of evidence, leading his own   
investigation. A nurse was found dead and, according to him, she had been at the   
emergency when Monica was admitted at the hospital. But even if we found out who   
did it, that would not bring her back.   
  
  
  
  
"John... I'm still waiting for your argument. If you have something to convince   
me to convince the doctors that somehow she's alive", I tried to talk to him   
while the transplant team waited on the outside. He refused to listen to me.  
  
"John...", Monica's voice made us turn back at the same time. John approached   
the bed and took her hand. I watched the scene, surprised and relieved at the   
same time. "Audrey", she whispered.  
  
With a worried look, John left the room in a hurry while I called for one of the   
nurses and requested a tox screen. Whatever that doctor had used, it could be   
still inside Monica's body.  
  
I was told later that Audrey Pauley was a hospital aid who, according to John,   
had told him that Monica was still alive. She was the last victim claimed by the   
doctor, who was scorted out of the hospital by the police under the stunned look   
of his colleagues.  
  
In a curious way that woman brought back to my memory the nice figure of Nurse   
Owens.   
  
  
  
  
It was nearly daybreak when Skinner returned to the hospital. Monica's parents   
were already on the way to Washington. Fortunately not to bid their daughter   
farewell.  
  
Before I left, I cast a last glance through the half-opened door and saw John   
seated at Monica's bedside, holding her hand while she slept, still on the   
effects of the medication.  
  
Against all odds, she was back.   
  
I don't know how to explain what happened. Maybe I never will.  
  
He believed when everybody else had given up. He had hope when there was nothing   
else to be done.  
  
He may not have said it with all the words that night but I think she knew it   
already.  
  
Once again, I remembered what Mulder had told me.  
  
Never give up on a miracle.  
  
  
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END  
  
Feedback? Anyone? ;) 


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